These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 60!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live in the burbs and work in the city (Chicago, the best city in the world). I'm an aunt, a friend and a colleague. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.

Friday, May 14, 2010

First I took myself out for a cheese omelet, orange juice and a few chapters of my book at the Cozy Corner Restaurant. Then I wandered around town, enjoying the sunny blue sky, and stocking up on pet food -- finally using those Petco coupons I've been hanging onto.

Then I alternated between watching the Cubs play the Pirates and doing 5 -- count 'em, FIVE! -- loads of laundry. A hideous drag, that's for sure. I resent every moment spent in the laundry room. But at least doing it on a weekday meant I didn't have to share the machines with anyone.I took a break and got a pedi. I love my shimmery coral spring/summer look. Mine is Avon, not Sally Hansen, but this is close.

Then I put all my clothes away -- and I do mean all. Not just the freshly laundered ones, but also the clean clothes I left haphazardly around when trying to figure out what to wear in the mornings. I vacuumed a little, too.

Then I paid bills (today is payday, after all). Now I'm watching the USA Network NCIS Marathon ... oh, Gibbs! ... and chilling. In all, a satisfying day off.

Much of the depression I experienced lately could be tied to Vicodin. The pain killer enhanced my comfort physically -- after all, the dentist sliced deep into my gums, cut bone, and stitched me up. Without the medication it would have been excruciating. But it also left me feeling fuzzy, and that fuzziness left me feeling vulnerable and clouded my judgement. That left me feeling profoundly uncomfortable.

Likewise the work on my veins, while completely voluntary, is putting my body through changes, and my body is reacting and perhaps rebelling. I can't ignore the impact the physical can have on the emotional.

Much -- but not all -- of my blues can be tied to that. Mother's Day was difficult for me because I realize my mother is aging. She's 75, and her time is short. Death and loss are a natural part of life, but that doesn't make them any easier to accept. In addition to knowing how much I will miss my mom, it's occurring to me that when she dies, so will much of my sense of family. I don't like my sisters.

This saddens me, and yet also leaves me feeling liberated in a way. For when my mother does die -- and she's feeling better these days, thank God, so nothing is imminent -- I have close friends I can turn to. My oldest friend has made it clear I always have a place for the holidays with her. And just as I spent New Year's in Key West, so I can spend Christmas. Saying all this aloud gave it a feeling of, "there, that's settled."